Tiny Silver Threads
by fernandowrites
Summary: After liberation, Blaine Anderson is recovering in a Red Cross hospital in Holland. During his ongoing recovery, through flashbacks, he remembers how he got there...and the one man he met along the way who he lost and vows to find again. Set in World War II in Europe.
1. Chapter 1

He awoke with a start. All around him, he saw the warm glow of light bulbs and remembered he was in a hospital in Holland. A nurse who was walking by smiled shyly at him, and asked what he needed.

"I need him," the man whispered softly, his lips chapped and his hazel eyes wide. The nurse nodded. "I know…we're looking for him, trying as hard as possible to locate him and every one else with him. Your bond with your cousin must be really strong. Sometimes," She continued, moving closer to his bed, her cropped blond hair swaying back and forth, "You can feel things. Like a connection." He nodded as he tried as hard as possible to draw a connection. The blue eyes, the brunette hair, the soft voice came back to him. The separation. He wished he had known. He wished they could've gone together. Despite burning up, he felt cold. He didn't know what happened, but he felt a tingle in his lips where he had been kissed months earlier. Perhaps it was a part of his flu.


	2. Chapter 2

The nurse handed him a cup of water, which she had to help him drink. He was sick. Terrible but lucky. He was healthy for one of the prisoners, one of the many that flooded the hospital, but as a human he was worse for wear. As his chest rose and fell, the man thought about what he had experienced. All the deaths in particular… What if the connection he had felt when he was talking to the Nurse was simply imagined? He couldn't bear the thought of living the rest of his life without the one person he loved the most. If he had to, he'd rather drown. After every injustice he had been though, he felt that this one was too much. As he sank back, he knew he was being dramatic, but he was also in love.

The doctor who came by a few hours later delivered the news: he had the flu. It seemed obviously, but could've been a lot worse given his living conditions for nine months. Wow, it felt like a lot longer to him. It felt like hundreds of years. The doctor assured him he would recover and be able to rebuild everything he had lost in the past few months. Everything except one thing, of course. As he drifted into sleep, Blaine found himself re-dreaming the same dream. The night they were separated.

"Look at me,"

Despite the darkness and only the moon illuminating a tiny sliver from a crack in the wood, Kurt could make out the speaker. His eyes had adjusted enough to the dark sleeping barracks to make people out in the dark. It was almost as if he were a cat, scanning for some comfort and warmth in a cruel place.

"Please, just listen to me. I know that we're both in here, and I know this is the last place to do this. But I love you. I want to let you know—considering the fact that I can't say this during any other time because it is so risky—that I'm going to try and make this promise and try to keep it. I'm going to protect you. I know that where we are is hell. I know that every day is a guessing game, but even if…even if I get transported and even if some else happens…I will always be thinking of you. Whatever I can do to keep you alive, I will do. Whether it's more food, less work…I don't care. I don't want you to promise the same for me. I'm doing this for you because I love you, and because I know I'm stronger right now. If our roles are reversed, I will let you take this on, but right now, I won't allow you to die for me in the condition you're in."

He was touched. He had never, other than his father, had another man make a pledge to take care of him. As he tried to keep back tears, he could feel Blaine's body move closer, awaiting permission to touch him. With the slightest reluctance, Kurt reached out and grabbed Blaine's hand firmly. It was the most touching they could manage while looking inconspicuous and a low risk of getting caught. Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt's hand, squeezing it while he whispered, "I love you," into Kurt's ear.

Kurt took only a moment to register the words before softly stealing a kiss from Blaine, and drawing back quickly. Kurt also noticed, even in the darkness, that Blaine's curls were beginning to grow back. It had been awhile since Blaine's hair was shorn, even longer than Kurt, but it also reminded Kurt to try and stay strong. He wanted more than anything, in that moment, to be back in Berlin. He silently promised to himself that he would be able to see all of Blaine's curls grow back, and see B smile. An actual smile, a smile that showed his happiness to be alive and well, not just alive and surviving. As Kurt shivered in his thin uniform, he could hear the slightest creak of the door. It must already be time for counting.

"Schweine, wach! Es ist Zeit zum Zählen. Line-Up, und zwar schnell. Wenn Sie ausgewählt werden heute, werden Sie transportiert werden. Mach mich nicht noch einmal sagen!" The guard shouted. "Line up, line up!"

Quickly, with the strength he had left, Kurt arose from his place on the bunk and clung to Blaine for support. Outside, they could feel the snow begin to fall on them in the freezing December weather. Kurt clung closer to Blaine, Blaine's wool coat warm. Blaine had to resist holding Kurt, because it would make them both look inferior.

"Can you stand on your own when they come by?" Blaine asked tenderly, wishing he could hold his hand. Kurt nodded, the wound on his leg sore and bruised. As the guard came closer, Blaine could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He so desperately wanted to be with Kurt, despite the outcome, if it were good or bad. As the guard walked past, Kurt stiffened up, ignoring the pain in his thigh as the bruise throbbed. The guard pointed at Blaine without batting an eyelash. "You, follow the line towards the showers." Looking at Kurt, he inspected him closer, and upon sight of the wound, frowned. "You're staying here."

Panic showed instantly on Kurt's face. He looked at Blaine, who was pleading with the guard in his best German, "_Please sir, this is my cousin, and I promised himwe wouldn't separate,"_

The guard blankly stared before yelling at him to move. He pushed Blaine roughly, and Blaine fell to the ground, it wet from the snow that turned instantly to slush. He cheeks red and one now bruised, Blaine was hauled up by the guard, who shoved him towards the showers. Blaine turned back to Kurt, who was trembling in the cold. Blaine met his gaze, and before the guard pushed him again, mouthed, "I love you. My promise remains,"

Kurt quickly ran ahead, as Blaine disappeared from sight. Running ever so fast in his condition was hard, but he pushed on, hoping to be inspected by another guard. They were running behind schedule, and he could see they were getting antsy. However, he reached the end too late, and fell into the slush. His eyelids fluttered and he fled a rough pull up, making him yell in pain as he realizes his bruised leg was being stepped on at the same time.

Being stuffed into the boxcar after a cold shower and sheering of his hair made Blaine feel even worse than before. He was lucky to have his wool coat still, but his hear sank when he realized Kurt wasn't there. No one would tell them where they were going, and no one knew what was to become of the prisoners left behind. Blaine freely allowed tears to run down his face as he became increasingly more and more constricted of movement, with men all around him. Several languages rang out as he could feel the train begin to move into the unknown abyss. He knew if he were careful, he would be able to see Kurt, the love of his life again. His hand still felt the intense touch the two has shared, and his lips still burned red hot from the stolen kiss the two shared. Blaine's silence allowed himself to think, and recall Kurt, with his gorgeous blue eyes, pale skin marred by bruises and cuts, and his brunette hair that was beginning to return to it's state—full, thick and a gorgeous, rich brown. As the tears continued to fall, Blaine wondered what would happen next.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all for the wonderful viewership!**

**I'm trying to update sooner rather than later for this story, because I have it all mapped up. Please review with questions, comments and suggestions! I'm also on Tumblr as springsummerfallwintour :) **

* * *

The train suddenly stopped. After four days of traveling, the sudden lack of motion felt weird to Blaine, as if it wasn't supposed to happen. His legs were stiff, and his body burned from soreness. He also was so very hungry. He pulled is coat tighter against himself, reflecting on the fact that, just four days ago, he had had Kurt within his eyesight, so he knew he couldn't be harmed. Those days were behind him like the days of his life in Holland.

As a part of the Resistance, Blaine felt powerful. Asked by his brother Cooper to join, Blaine knew it was the right thing to do. Every day, people were being rounded up in the streets, and the people hidden were at risk as well. Blaine wanted to help—while he himself was a Christian, and a good one at that, he knew others around him, like his neighbors, the Eilerings, had been deported, never to of been heard from again. As Blaine biked to his classes at the University in Amsterdam, he saw houses and shops for blocks that were empty. Every so often, people would be moving in, but often, Blaine heard the sound of emptiness in the Jewish dominated neighborhoods.

As he spun his bike down the street, Blaine securely looked at the bundles he had stuffed in his basket on his bike. They all contained false identification papers, ideal for families who were targeted, in addition to false ration books, ideal for getting more food. Blaine breaths were sharp and perfectly timed, his nervousness has instead manifested into a perfection issue. In the cool September air, Blaine pulled his father's wool coat tighter to him, beginning to feel chilled to the bone. His shoes were scuffing against the sidewalk, and Blaine slowed down, as he got closer to his destination. He had received an address, scrawled in a nubby pencil on parchment that morning and brief instructions in code to deliver some ration books. While the location was a deserted home, he still went with fear that someone could be following him. He didn't have to meet anyone there, he just had to drop off the ration books and leave, and return to his studies for the day. Blaine had had dreams of becoming an educator for children in high school, perhaps a history teacher or a language teacher. He never dreamed he'd also be such a strong revolutionary.

As Blaine slowed his bike down to stop in front of the location, he suddenly felt a chill cover his body. He quickly pulled his coat tighter as he unloaded the books, all pressed neatly into an old wooden box he had been given. Looking around the house's exterior, with it's contents scattered about, and the lingering smell of smoke, Blaine knew it wouldn't stand out, and as quickly as possible, placed the boy under an old mattress on the street and turned to go, riding away in the distance.

"Blaine, zijn er een aantal politie hier voor jou," said Cooper. He couldn't meet Blaine's gaze. Often, Blaine was asked by the police to tutor their children in history, with many of them living nearby. They adored Blaine, and Blaine adored them. Too young to begin his own his family; Blaine could hardly wait for the day to start his own. Living with Cooper was as close as he needed to be to a family right now, especially when he had studies to attend to every day.

Before the occupation, Blaine had also had had a relationship with an officer, Victor. Blaine hadn't regretted it until occupation. Victor knew he had the power of deporting Blaine for homosexual behavior, but he also knew better to keep his mouth shut.

"What can I do for you?" Blaine asked as the three officers stared at him outside the apartment.

"Do you know anything about a ration book left outside downtown this weekend?"

Blaine flushed. "No, I don't, sir." With this, the officer nearest him seized him, and Cooper ran into the foyer. "What the fuck is going on?" He exclaimed, as Blaine's eyes grow large.

"Your brother here has been distributing ration books to the Jews!" One exclaimed. "It's illegal to do so, as you should know."

"It was me," said Cooper. "You've got the wrong brother." Blaine suddenly pushed Cooper aside. "You can't do this. Cooper, you know it wasn't you!" Tears began to fill both of the Anderson boys' eyes as the officer finally stepped forward, pulling Blaine away. "The calmer you are, the less severe this will be," He said to Blaine, who bit his bottom lip as Cooper quickly handed him his wool coat. "I won't let you guys do this to him. He's a baby, he can't…I won't…" Cooper's voice faltered as an officer kicked Cooper, and he fell to floor.

Blaine was incapable of speaking for the next two days. He almost refused food, but was urged by a young man next to him to take as much as he could. Blaine stuffed bread into his pockets and continued to wait. He didn't know what he was waiting for, though. He knew as much as he wished for it to happen, Cooper probably wouldn't be able to get him set free. Blaine, in the eyes of the police, had committed a serious crime, and now he had to pay the price. He slunk next to the man whom he shared his cell with, who had been arrested for robbing an abandoned home. They were completely different in their beliefs, and Blaine had simply said he was in prison unfairly. He suspected he would be shot but if that were to happen, he would've been shot already.

"Opstaan,"

Blaine stirred from his sleep. He felt tired and somewhat dazed, but nonetheless, moved to stand before he could be hurt. The guard pulled Blaine to his feet and snarled, "We're not coming back here,"

Blaine knew he was finally going to be shot, and bowed his head. As the guard pulled Blaine down the hall and exited the jail, Blaine suddenly saw light and flinched. It was quite bright, in contrast to the dark and damp cell he had been in for four days.

The car ride was silent, and Blaine, handcuffed knew better than to saw anything. Instead, he stared outside, and saw the Centraal Train station grow larger in his view. Stopping in front of the station, Blaine was escorted by the guard in, uncuffed and thrust into a line of people. He continued his silence as he was pushed aboard a train, and felt the train quickly crowd up…

Blaine sat in the boxcar as the door opens and guard began to push people out one by one.

"Wenn Sie nicht gehen kann, haben wir Menschen, die Sie auf die Krankenstation kann eskortieren! Bewegen sich schnell, schnell!" The guard shouted, large German shepherds barking at the prisoners. While tired, Blaine knew better than to wait for help. He could walk. Standing up, he mustered up his strength, despite his hunger to walk forward. "Is this a work camp?" He asked aloud, looking at the lack of construction the last one had. A guard nodded before pushing him forward.

_If only Kurt was here_, thought Blaine, _He would be okay here_.

* * *

**Translations: **"Blaine, zijn er een aantal politie hier voor jou," is Dutch for "Blaine, the police are here to speak with you,"

"Opstaan," is Dutch for "Get up,"

"Wenn Sie nicht gehen kann, haben wir Menschen, die Sie auf die Krankenstation kann eskortieren! Bewegen sich schnell, schnell!" is German for "If you can't walk, we have people who can escort you to the infirmary! Move quickly, fast!"

**In case anyone's curious, Blaine is 20 years old in this. He will meet Kurt soon enough, and if you were wondering, Cooper also reappears. **

**I 3 reviews, as I only have one :)**


	4. Chapter 4

The boy staring at him blinked suddenly. _He lost!_ Thought Blaine as he pretended to play a game of staring contests with the boy across from him. The boy looked away quickly, but flashed a small smile at Blaine, his blue eyes flicking with hints of gray and hazel and green as the soft light hit them. They were in line to be partnered up for their duties. While Blaine had usually seen the boy in the kitchen, preparing vast quantities of poor excuses for food, today was different. Today he and the boy were paired up in the factories. They were supposed to sew uniforms for guards, a job the boy seemed to accomplish easily. His eyes flicked from the needle moving its way across the fabric to Blaine and back to the needle, before finishing another uniform. Blaine just stared at the fabric before staring back at the boy, with a look of desperation on his face. He didn't want to get in trouble. The boy quickly looked at the guard, who asked him a question, to which the boy responded to in German.

"Sprechen sie Deutsch?" asked the boy softly. He was standing right behind Blaine's workstation, his pure skin cracked from sun and lack of proper bathing, like everyone else's but he looked like an angel. Blaine slowly shook his head, not wanted to take his eyes off the boy.

"Es tut mir leid, ich spreche Niederländisch." Blaine responded, before Kurt switched to Dutch. "I grew up near the border, I know Dutch," He said. "Not so much Polish…" He said lightly. "I'm Kurt, by the way." Blaine nodded and looked at the sewing machine, knowing fully well some contact wasn't permitted by prisoners. Touching wasn't. "I'm Blaine," Blaine responded. "I wish I could shake your hand."

Kurt softly smiled and set to work teaching Blaine how to sew. Soon, they had completed two uniforms for Blaine, and Kurt had to return to his place. The hum of the machines made Blaine crazy and he tried to think of Kurt's beautiful voice, speaking to him in two languages. He had never met someone who had the more beautiful…everything. However, considering the circumstances, Blaine knew anything other than a smile would hurt them. Blaine smiled back at Kurt, who, despite his malnutrition, seemed to have straightened up a little after interacting with Blaine.

In the cool night air, Blaine saw Kurt walking slowly by, staggering slightly, and before he knew what he was doing, softly called his name. Kurt turned around slowly, and when he saw Blaine only his eyes flashed. He slowly made his way over to the other, who reached into his pocket and handed Kurt some bread.

"Here," said Blaine. Kurt's eyes widened as he quickly pushed the piece away.

"I can't," Kurt said slowly, even if he so obviously needed it.

"Yes you can. You saved my life today showing me how to sew, and I think, looking at you now, you look as if you haven't been able to eat. Please," Blaine urged, tearing off bits and handing them to Kurt. Kurt stared at the first bit for a second before taking the bread from Blaine and eating it all.

"Thank you, you really didn't have to do that," Kurt said finally.

"I wanted to…" Blaine said before turning to walk away. "Wait!" Kurt said before Blaine left. "I…thanks. Again." Blaine nodded and smiled before walking off.

The next few days went by easier for Blaine. He found himself lucky enough to survive under the extreme conditions, and adapted better every day. He also saw Kurt every day, as they were both assigned to sew. Though not allowed to talk, afterwards, Blaine slowly was able to get answers from the young German, who, at 19, was imprisoned because he was Jewish. He had grown up near the border with his mother and father, but his mother had passed away when he was young. He and his father worked together in an auto shop, and Kurt had had dreams of performing on stages in Paris. Kurt was a singer, and found himself unable to express himself with the restrictions on him. "My lifestyle," Kurt said, "Was too risky." In return for his stories, Blaine wanted to provide for Kurt, switching into his bunker, and helping Kurt regain his strength. Kurt often felt bad he couldn't return Blaine's favors, but Blaine insisted he wanted to take care of Kurt.

One night when the cold began to set in, Kurt turned to Blaine in the darkness. "Blaine, I need to tell you something. I wasn't arrested for being Jewish like they all think…I'm gay." Blaine didn't know what to say. He was gay too, but didn't want to scare the other man. Kurt shook a little as he spoke. "I know they could have me killed for saying such. Everyone wants everyone else dead here, but please…don't…please…" And as he said so, the top bunk's wood fell through, trapping Kurt's leg in it. Everyone woke up and the guard ran in, screaming at everyone to shut up. As the guard watched the top bunk prisoners slid off the mess, he screamed at them, blaming the largest one for the mess, and taking out his pistol, shot him, letting the man fall and the blood run. For sport, he shot the prisoner next to him, who also fell down. Blaine scurried to pull Kurt's leg out, and although no skin had broken, Kurt could barely move it. He knew his leg wasn't broken, but maybe paralyzed. No treatment in such a place would suffice, and Kurt knew he would have to pay the price of a lower bunk in silence. As noises subsided and men returned to sleep, Blaine looked over at Kurt, and tenderly stroked his cheek.

"Kurt?" said Blaine quickly. Kurt's eyes shot open. "I don't care, because I am too."

Kurt nodded and smiled before returning to sleep. Kurt's leg the next day was bruised and a little swollen, but thankfully, his pants hid it, and Blaine helped him walk slowly before Kurt felt confident to balance himself a little bit better to not arouse suspicion from anyone else. Blaine continued giving Kurt his food so he could heal better, although Blaine found himself a little hungrier than usual. Blaine knew that the guards would look the other way if they were paid off in some way, so he exchanged favors for spare apples. Kurt looked at him both deeply hurt and surprised when he found out Blaine had been giving favors for the apples they would quietly before they were to go to their barrack. "I'm doing this for you. It's nothing…too bad." Blaine knew he was lying but he also needed to protect Kurt. Kurt said nothing of it later, and Blaine knew the issue had been dropped. To be honest though, Blaine didn't agree with what he had said. He desperately wanted to tell Kurt the guards were having him sort through old personal possessions to separate the ones to sell. He felt dirty, but knew he should be grateful to some extent for being able to keep Kurt alive.

The following morning, they returned to the uniform room, and Kurt let his gaze linger on Blaine for longer. His leg hurt, but so did his heart. The sheer idea of losing this man made Kurt want to throw up, and he planned to never let him slip away.

Kurt let the hum of sewing machines overtake his thoughts, and knew, as the snow got colder, he and Blaine would have to remain stronger than ever before.

He wouldn't guess in a few months he would be separated from Blaine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to all my 270 viewers, my 5 followers, and my 2 reviewers! I'm so happy. I didn't think anyone would read this! This chapter is from Kurt's POV and a bit shorter, but I hope you all enjoy it! **

* * *

A young blue-eyed man looked up into the sun at the main station of Amsterdam and smiled. He had finally made it. Kurt blinked into the sunlight and gathered his bag, watching as it slipped from his grasp, the strap on Burt Hummel's old carpetbag slippery from the recent coat of polish his father had put on it.

As Kurt fumbled with his bag at the train tracks, a soldier approached him, speaking in Dutch, inquiring about his papers, and Kurt began to shake. He hadn't seen such a fearsome man since his last night before liberation.

"I-I'm looking…looking for… for my cousin," Kurt stuttered in Dutch. His Dutch was slightly accented, an accent that was associated with people on the border.

"Where are you from?"

"Gendringen," Kurt responded quickly.

"Do you have papers, sir?" Kurt shook his head. "No sir, I was a prisoner during the war. My papers were burned." The guard looked closely at Kurt, whose features looked more Germanic than Dutch, and finally, after a silence asked, "And your name?" Kurt paused for a second before responding, "Kurt Anderson."

As unfamiliar as the name sounded on his tongue, it also sounded perfect. Kurt had dreamt of Blaine every night; of his curls, his gorgeous hazel eyes, and his pink lips. Since he and Blaine's separation, Kurt has done nothing more, remembering the tingle he felt from a man who saved his life.

The day after their separation Kurt had awoken and returned to sewing. He had made ten uniforms that day, not looking up at the guard, or across from him, where Blaine would have sat, smiling at him, and mouthing sweet words. Kurt knew Blaine was probably alive, dancing further away from death than Kurt himself, but Kurt was more so worried that Blaine would forget the tall German boy with the wounded leg. As Kurt's days turned into weeks and then a month, Kurt's lips stopped tingling with sensation. He remembered Blaine's face, but in small flashes. The only thing he clung to was his name, number and address.

The guard has left Kurt alone, walking away, but Kurt continued to blink ahead, as if looking ahead into Blaine's eyes. He spotted a Red Cross nurse walking by, and running, Kurt reached her, panting as he asked about the list of survivors. _Blaine has to be on it, he has to._

"Is there a hospital around here?" He asked. "Or…can you show me where this is?" Retrieving his paper from his bag, Kurt showed her the address on the paper. The nurse frowned slightly, studying the paper as she read the address. After a few moments, she nodded, responding in Dutch.

"That's not too far away from here, sir."

Quickly, she gave him directions. Kurt smiled, thanking her in Dutch before walking away.

Walking the streets of Amsterdam was weird for Kurt. He had never been a boy who was social, and to see so many smiling faces on the street, smiling at him, make him nervous. He remembered back during his younger days when his stepbrother Finn's friends used to humiliate him in school, and how their smiles beguiled their cruel words and tricks. He remembered how his love for the French singer Edith Piaf engendered mean remarks from his peers, and remembered Dave's face when Kurt wore a bag unlike the knapsacks all the Hitler Youth had.

The smiles haunted Kurt, because as a prisoner the only thing he had to smile for was what he was in pursuit of. As he walked past the canals, his heart lifted a little. All Blaine would talk about was the canals and how he and his brother Cooper would run around them, and as kids his parents warned the two if they fell in they'd have to walk home. Bicycles whizzed past Kurt, the wind ruffling his hair, and he smiled. Blaine told Kurt everyone rode secondhand or new bicycles in Amsterdam, and Kurt was eager to ride with Blaine. He knew how to ride one, but riding a two-person bike would be different to Kurt. Kurt checked the address again before walking across a bridge, leaning over it to stare into the water, a clear blue.

"Please be here, Blaine…"

* * *

**I hope you all liked it! Next up: Cooper Anderson meets Kurt! Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**As my Christmas gift, here is a new chapter. I'm humbled at the recent shoot in viewership! Thank you all so much!**

* * *

Kurt's heart fluttered in his chest, and his hands became cold and clammy. Breathing slowly and heavily, Kurt knocked at Tuinstraat 460, waiting to see what would happen next. Of all the important things he was to remember, this address to him seemed to be the most. He was tired, and next to him, his carpetbag lay, inside containing some clothing. He also threw in a few other items, but most were with Burt at home.

"Hallo?"

A voice behind Kurt startled him, and jumping, Kurt could feel the hairs on his neck stand up. As he began to feel himself tense up, a gentle yet firm hand was laid on him.

Turning around, Kurt realized it was Cooper Anderson, the famous radio personality and film star, toting a bag of food in one hand. Kurt's jaw dropped as the dashing actor looked in his eyes, Cooper's blue ones full of worry and concern.

"Yes…do you live here? I'm looking for someone. We were separated during the war."

Cooper's blue eyes hazed over as he set down his bag, looking for his keys to his apartment. "My brother was arrested right in front of me during the war…I thought I'd never see him again." Cooper sighed before continuing as he jiggled the lock, it becoming troublesome for him. It wasn't ever officially fixed after his brother's arrest and during the war, Cooper hadn't been able to find anyone to properly fix it.

"However, this week I was contacted by the Red Cross, to inform me my baby brother was alive, though suffering from the flu. I was actually going to go visit him today. When our parents passed away, I had promised them I would take care of him…and then I asked him to join the Resistance with me. How stupid of me…I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Who was it you were inquiring about, sir?" with one final thrust and grunt, Cooper pushed open the door to his well-furnished apartment.

"Blaine Anderson,"

Cooper turned back around and looked at Kurt. 'That's not a funny joke,"

"I'm not joking, sir," said Kurt, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to show Cooper his tattooed number. As Cooper observed it, he frowned.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to explain yourself…what did you say your name was?"

"Kurt, sir, Kurt Hummel."

"Are you German? Why is your Dutch so good?" asked Cooper, the pieces of the puzzle still not falling completely into place.

"Well sir, I grew up near the border." Kurt said. "…Mr. Cooper? Anyways, what does Blaine have to do with you?" Cooper pulled him into his apartment, shutting the door behind him. He gestured to a chair in the sitting room, which Kurt gingerly sat down on. The couch was comfortable, and felt like something Burt would've purchased with Kurt's mother, Elizabeth. The whole apartment smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, and Kurt would hear the stovetop being turned on.

"Would you like some tea?" Cooper called from the kitchen.

"Yes, please," Kurt responded before picking at his fingers. It was a nervous habit Kurt had had since his mother passed away, and often, his fingers were worse for wear, scabby and bleeding, but his father had insisted if he were to see Blaine, he would need to stop, and gave Kurt ointment to heal the scabs faster.

As Cooper brought in the teapot and cups, Kurt caught his eye and smiled. Cooper returned the smile as he handed Kurt his cup. "So…you met Blaine back then?" Cooper barely whispered, too afraid to even push further.

Kurt nodded. "Yes. We met at the first camp. Blaine was transferred, but we met during our work assignment. We were to make uniforms for the guards that killed us…like we were hurting ourselves with every stitch…Blaine had never sewn before…so I asked a guard if I could show him, if I gave up my meal ration. I knew I had to save him then, he looked so helpless, sitting there." Cooped nodded. He had sewn all of Blaine's clothes and repaired all the holes with patches.

"But then he was transferred. I never forgot him though, even when it grew cold at night. Even when I was almost shot..." Kurt stopped and looked at Cooper, his eyes wet with tears. "I don't know what I'd do if he were dead. I love him."

Cooper didn't know what he was doing, but he pulled Kurt into a hug.

"We'll see, okay?" Kurt sobbed into Cooper's chest as Cooper held him closer.

"You're staying here, baby, okay? I don't trust this city right now." Kurt nodded as Cooper carried him into the spare bedroom and laid him down. "Try to rest okay? I'm going to try and find out more about how he's doing. I want you to sleep." Kurt almost argued, but Cooper shushed him, covering Kurt with blankets and lightly kissing his forehead.

As Cooper shut the door, he wondered if Blaine would would pull through for them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Not sure what it is with me and small chapters, haha. But I wanted to upload this to celebrate my official transfer from my college to another! I'm VERY excited. This is also my new years gift to you!**

**XX**

* * *

Blaine rolled over in his bed at the hospital, his sweating brow making it hard to get comfortable in a position with a wet pillow. The nurse had just left, taking his temperature and promising him a new pillow. He had been in the hospital for a few months now, recovering from a combination of the flu and malnourishment. Every day his dreams of Kurt became more and more vivid as his cold diminished and his strength returned to him. He was also told that news of survivors was beginning to circulate quicker, and Blaine's secret hope of begin reunited with Kurt soared. He continued to tell doctors it was his cousin he was searching for, and that they were separated.

Today, Blaine was told he had a visitor. He rolled over in bed and took a gulp of water before looking into the bright intensely blue eyes of his brother, Cooper. Blaine's eyes watered as his older brother pulled him into a gentle hug, kissing his forehead.

"Oh Blaine, sweetie, I'm…" Cooper tried to form a sentence before tears constricted his throat. Blaine nodded, knowing exactly what his brother meant. While they were at some times the biggest rivals, they most often were the best of friends, the closest they could be.

For a while the two just held each other. Cooper laid next to Blaine, allowing his younger brother to rest, with Blaine's head laying on Cooper's chest, and Cooper stroked Blaine's hair, watching his baby brother's chest rise and fall. Cooper sighed as he could only imagine the hell Blaine and Kurt had been through. Kurt looked healthier of the two, but behind his blue eyes was hurt, and Cooper believed, although barely knowing Kurt, that Blaine would subdue, even fix that pain.

Even in his sleep Blaine thought of Kurt. Muttering his name in small, short breaths, Blaine's lips would softly and sweet pronounce the German's name before smiling lightly. It made Cooper smile to see his brother love someone so dearly. He might tease him later on about the sleep talking, but now, as the nurse returned with a pillow and a bowl of soup for Blaine, Cooper felt content.

"Coop?" Blaine suddenly was awake and well aware of his brother next to him.

"Hey buddy. Are you hungry? The nurse just brought some soup…" Cooper asked, looking at his brother. Blaine nodded and smiled. "I'd really like some soup, but I also need to tell you something."

"Go ahead,"

Blaine paused before taking a breath. "When I was arrested, I thought I'd never see you again, and almost lost my will to live. Why should I have carried on? I was taken away from my home, my brother, my country even…and in the work camp, it was live or die, no in between—but living felt like hell. I was always hungry, and alone and depressed…I almost killed myself twice, actually. Then, I invented stories for the other prisoners, like we did with Mother and Daddy when we were kids with people. Finally, I got my first work assignment: to sew uniforms…you and I both know you sewed my clothes when they were patchy or torn. I don't think I can sew very well, so I sat and stared at my uniform in front of me. But then Kurt came into my life. He sat across from me, and realized how lost I was, and sacrificed his ration to help me. I don't think I'd be here without him. I'm in love with him…but we were separated…I really need your help, Cooper, please, I need to find him. I love him more than life itself, and I need to see him again. The Red Cross is looking for him…but please…" As Blaine's hazel eyes met Cooper's he nodded. "Blainers. He's alive, at our house." Blaine suddenly tugged Cooper's shirt, tears falling.

"Please don't fucking joke like that! Cooper, Kurt is real, and…and…" Cooper stopped Blaine. "I'm not joking. He's alive. He's asleep at our home." Blaine really started crying now, and by the time a nurse came to check on the two, they were both sobbing.

"Look at us…we're kids." Cooper laughed before nudging Blaine. Blaine cracked a small smile, before asking, "Coop, how did he find you?" Cooper smiled. "He said he remembered our address. I think it's remarkable, actually. He's asleep there…I didn't want him to come if you were sick or in worse condition, but I'll bring him tomorrow morning."

Blaine nodded before flopping back down.

* * *

**Short, I know, but next up is the reunion!**


	8. Chapter 8

**So my new school is a lot more time consuming than my old want, but thank God the semester's ending! Here's a short chapter. **

Kurt walked briskly next to Cooper, wrapping his coat tighter around his lean frame. He nervously looked over at Blaine's brother, his breath rising and falling in stead but quick paces. As the two reached the outside of the hospital, Kurt felt a metal taste in his mouth and realized he had bit a hole in his lip from nerves. He looked over at Cooper before gulping a large amount of air.

"I don't think I can do this, Cooper,"

"Why not?" Cooper asked, looking at Kurt. "If you're worried about what these people will think, fuck them. You came here to find someone you love."

"What if he doesn't remember me…or worse is disappointed by me?" Kurt's ice blue eyes flickered from one end of the street to the other, obviously very afraid of the American troops and of the stares he got in his very German clothing, finer in quality than anything they had seen for years.

"Aww, Kurt. Please don't ever think that. I know my brother loves you very much, you're all consuming in his thoughts, and you saved his life." As Cooper said this, Kurt began standing straighter and smiled a little. "Now c'mon on."

Blaine was reading an old copy of a novel his brother had brought him and trying to remember when Cooper said he'd be by again. He nervously glanced at the clock and back to the page he was reading. If time moved any slower, he'd possibly be dead, and Blaine knew that was happening. Across the hall he heard footsteps, and even further down, he heard a record player playing a recording of Edith Piaf. He smiled a little to himself as her music made it's way down the hall and thought of how much Kurt liked Edith.

"She's the best, Blaine. Honestly, everyone should listen to her. So emotional." Kurt would smile as he would eat and describe his love for all things French. Blaine shook the sad memory out of his head because the next day he and Kurt were separated.

"Cooper, everyone needs to listen to her," came a voice outside of the door, and Blaine glanced up into Kurt's eyes.

Blaine didn't realize he had fallen to the floor until he felt Kurt's arms around him. Both of their faces were wet with tears, as Cooper smiled and looked on.

"I didn't know you'd still be alive," Blaine choked out as he laid on Kurt's chest. "But I've thought about you every single day of my life after we were separated. Kurt, oh my god, Kurt. You're real, you're tangible, you're...here." Kurt kissed Blaine lightly before Blaine reciprocated, and just held Kurt in his arms.

"I'm never ever letting you go again...ever." Blaine whispered to Kurt. "How...what..how did you even find me?"

"You gave me your address. One night, you said it, and I remember things like that. After the war, after recovering at home, I left my father to take a risk and find you."

Blaine started crying again, and left Kurt silents hold him on the floor.

"I love you."


End file.
